


The Winding Road

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Canonical Character Death, Consensual Infidelity, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A choice can change your life, even if you wouldn't expect it. Rick never knew what killing Merle Dixon would get him into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating and category will make more sense later. I had my friend proofread this one but her first language isn't English so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. Will try to update ASAP! Also, I'm lowkey bad at summaries. (Some pairings aren't in the story yet and may not be for a while but are in the tags, so just... be patient please!)

Rick hasn't loved anyone in a real long time. Sure, he had messed around and gotten Lori pregnant, but the two of them had married and stayed that way only for the sake of their son. Even if he pretended he didn't, Rick knew that Lori was in love with Shane, and that was okay by him. Shane is a good guy. He's good to Lori, and to Carl. If his wife and son are happy, so is Rick. That's why he just looked the other way all these years.

When he and his family are reunited, of course he's thrilled, but the kiss he gives Lori when he finally sees her again is more the type given by one good friend to another, not one that a husband would share with his wife. There's no passion in it. He spends just as long as he feels he has to with his arms wrapped around her before he finally backs away. The three of them sit together around the fire at dinner that night, and Rick thinks that Carl notices that his parents aren't holding hands. Although Rick and Lori share a bed that night, they stay as far away from each other as possible. The two don't speak.

The next morning when Rick wakes up, he's glad to see that Lori is already awake and has left the tent. He dresses and goes to find something to do. He wants to make himself useful. He owes these people, after all.

As soon as Shane sees that Rick has woken up, he motions him over. There's a serious look on Shane's face; one that worries Rick a lot. 

"We have to tell Daryl what happened to Merle," he informs Rick in a low voice, glancing around anxiously. Rick has almost forgotten about Daryl, and he wonders where he is. Although he's been told that Daryl is out hunting, he can't help but be curious. Somehow, he can imagine piercing eyes peering at him from the trees that line the camp. He isn't looking forward to meeting Merle's brother.

"I'll handle it," Rick manages, hoping that he doesn't look as worried as he actually is. He doesn't know how he's going to handle it, but he's sure he can figure that out later. He has time.

Later that day when a walker eating a deer riles things up at the camp, Rick gets his chance. A gruff looking man emerges from the woods and he knows immediately that it's Daryl. He stays silent as the newcomer kicks the lifeless body that's stolen his prey, watching the raw strength behind Daryl's anger. Rick only hopes that things can be resolved calmly between them. He doesn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

As everyone heads back to camp, Rick is reminded of his job. He approaches the hunter and gently lays a hand on his shoulder, trying not to flinch away as Daryl turns his dark gaze on him.

Rick holds out a hand, feeling stupid. "Daryl, it's nice to meet you," he mutters. "I'm Rick Grimes. I need to talk to you."

Daryl looks uninterested, and pointedly doesn't shake hands with the sheriff. He doesn't respond, and Rick takes that as his cue.

"It's about your brother," he begins. "Merle didn't make it back."

A long moment of silence passes between them before Daryl crosses his arms and looks down at the ground. "He's dead?" Immediately, Rick feels horrible, more horrible than he felt already. The hunter looks like he's on the verge of crying.

"I'm sorry." Rick shifts his weight nervously. He's ready to run now. Just in case, he tells himself. "Merle put us all in danger," he says in a low, steady voice. "He would have killed us. He nearly beat T-Dog to death. He came at me and I put him down. I shot him in the head so he won't turn. I had to, and I'm sorry it came to that."

Rick isn't sure for a moment what's about to happen next. It only becomes apparent to him that Daryl is angry when the hunter reaches for his knife and swings it at Rick's throat. He barely leaps out of the way of the blade before Daryl is charging at him, and Shane steps in not a moment too soon. He takes Daryl by the neck, bringing him to the ground.

"Let him go," Rick says quietly. "Let him go."  
Shane looks unsure, but does as he's told. To everyone's surprise, Daryl stays sitting on the ground, looking defeated, his knife laying forgotten in the dirt. Rick gives it a moment before he kneels down next to him, not daring look at him.

"I really am sorry."

Daryl just shakes his head. "So am I."

That night, Daryl is absent from dinner. Rick is surprised to learn that the hunter doesn't sleep in the camp, but instead has a bed hidden in a copse of trees to the east, which he sets out to find as soon as everyone else goes to their tents. 

Daryl is whittling wood, sitting among the roots of a tree when Rick finds him. There's a single blanket under him and a pillow behind his back, and Rick realizes this must be where he sleeps. Opposite him is another bed, empty, and the officer feels a pang when he realizes this must be why Daryl looks so lonely. The two beds are covered by a single, thin sheet of tarpaulin that's been strung between two tree trunks. Rick watches for a moment before holding out a plate of food to the hunter. Daryl doesn't even look up at him. When he tries again and is still unsuccessful, he sits down and pushes his way under the tarpaulin cover to sit next to Daryl. He holds the plate out again, and is relieved when the hunter finally takes it.

The two men sit together and eat in silence, and only once he's finished does Daryl turn to look at Rick. "The hell's this about?" 

The question surprises Rick and he meets the hunter's eye for a moment, though he looks away almost immediately. "You weren't at dinner," he mutters. "It just didn't seem fair that you put in all the hard work to get us food and then you don't get any."

"You don't even know me," Daryl says quietly, "but you're worryin' about whether I eat or not? Why?"

Rick didn't have a good answer. He quietly sat his plate aside, taking a moment to think. "We're a group now," he muttered, "so we have to look out for each other. It isn't good for any of us if you go hungry, right?"

Daryl doesn't answer and eventually Rick gives up. He goes back to the tent he's sharing with Lori, mostly because there's nowhere else for him to sleep, and it doesn't take him long to drift off. His mind is filled with dark, angry eyes until he wakes up the next morning.

\+ + +

It isn't long after Rick's first day with this new group that everything goes to hell. As much as he wants to feel surprised, Rick hadn't expected to live this long in the first place so he just feels lucky to be one of the remaining survivors. Everyone is quiet as they bury the dead, Rick especially as he still feels that he has no place here. There has been so much senseless death, he thinks, since this has all began and he finds himself crying in front of the grave of a person he barely knew. He feels someone watching him as he sits on his knees in the dust, one hand pressing to his eyes to will the tears away.

Jim is suffering; Rick knows that he's trying to act strong, but he can see it in the man's eyes that he's in indescribable pain. He knows that it's worthless but the constable can't stop himself from trying to help ease Jim's suffering, and his mind is set on the CDC despite the uncertainty surrounding him and suffocating him until it churns behind his eyes each time they close. He pictures a horrible, haunted place surrounded by corpses, and when they arrived to just what he has imagined he feels all hope leave him in one deep, rattling sigh.

And somehow, with enough kicking and screaming, Rick manages to keep alive the last light in the gathering dark. He and his family-- not just Lori and Carl, but all the survivors he's led here-- finally have what seems to be a safe place to catch their breath, and Rick prays for the first time in many years. He thanks God as he sits around the dinner table that night, not out loud but with his thoughts, and he hopes that there's a God out there to hear him. Even if there isn't, he thinks after he's had a few glasses of wine, he is still thankful, even if the what or the who has been lost in the grey.

Jenner is a blessing, Rick realizes. He's silent for a very long time, watching his guests with curious eyes from a perch he takes up in the corner of the room. The bottle in his hands shakes as Rick locks eyes with him, and he realizes that this is an oddity to the scientist who has been alone, underground, for longer than he cares to think, trapped with his thoughts and the bodies of the dead.

After the others are asleep, Rick finds a bottle of rum and sits at Jenner's side, watching him for a long time as the doctor silently taps at a keyboard with dejected eyes. Rick knows that he's going nowhere and eventually has mercy on him by distracting him of his failures-- Rick knows that all is lost by the hisses of fury that Jenner thinks he can't hear. Rick offers to take him back to his room, and after a few more swigs of rum, the scientist agrees.

The officer wakes up the next morning, sore and alone, and later that day two more people are dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Suffocating. 

All of a sudden Rick is suffocating. 

He claws at his neck, at his chest, and he's aware that his hands are warm and sticky, and through his darkening vision he can see blood. There's a wet hacking sound like a blade splitting flesh. The word "goodbye" echos through his head.

Rick jerks awake suddenly, jumping to his feet in his panic. His legs are weak, though, and he falls backwards into the chair under him just as he feels his head spin violently. The sheriff dares to open his eyes after a long moment, and as he sees Carl laying in the bed before him his dream is forgotten and a new panic sets in. His son is ghostly pale and Shane and Otis still aren't back. Hershel stands at the other side of the bed; his eyes flick up to Rick for a moment and then back to Carl. He doesn't speak a word, but the look on his face says plenty.

By the time Shane returns, Rick is mostly asleep again, and a light tap on his shoulder brings him back to the waking world. The rest of the group has made their way to the farm by now. Hershel tells Rick to get some fresh air, and the constable ends up sitting on the porch in silence, aware of Daryl watching him from a distance as he does some kind of maintenance on his bike. Although it should be unnerving, Rick is reassured by the hunter's vigilant eyes and soon ends up falling asleep again.

Carol comes to get him when dinner is ready, though he finds himself hardly able to eat. By the time he falls asleep, still sharing a tent with Lori, he feels half starved.

Although he's told not to, Rick tags along looking for Sofia the next day. He can tell that everyone is watching him, waiting for him to collapse, but luckily he manages not to let his legs give out until they're all safely back home. He drops to his knees as he makes his way up the steps to the Greene house, and almost immediately he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up wearily to see Carol standing over him, an anxious look in her eyes, with Daryl hovering just behind her. Before he can lie and say he's alright, Rick is being dragged to his feet and led inside. Daryl pushes him down on the couch without a word and Carol is there just a second later to hand Rick a canteen of water. He's glad that Hershel isn't around to give him the 'I told you so' he knows he so rightly deserves.

"You need to take your time with recovering," Carol says gently, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest. "You aren't any good to anyone if you work yourself to death."

It's only a day or so later that Daryl comes back to camp badly injured, limps out of the forest with one hand pressed hard to the wound in his side, blood still seeping out between his fingers. Rick nearly drops his gun when they lock eyes.

"Thi's the third time you' pointed that thing at my head," Daryl growls, his voice weak. "You gonna pull the trigger or what?"

A shot rings out and now Rick _does_ drop his pistol. He staggers backwards, his heart thrumming in terror when Daryl falls to the ground, though the hunter is obviously still conscious and is glaring daggers at Rick not a moment later. His right hand is pressed to his opposite shoulder, blood gushing through his shirt.

"I was kidding."

"That wasn't me," Rick blurts out, and he's sure glad it wasn't because otherwise he'd be dead. The others are screaming behind them, back to Andrea, not to shoot. 

Even with Rick and Glenn's help, Daryl can hardly stay on his feet, and they half drag him back into the house. There's a thin trail of blood through the grass the whole way across the farm and by the time Hershel has gotten the bullet out of Daryl's shoulder the hunter is looking terribly pale. He struggles to sit up by himself and Rick has to help him so he won't collapse. 

Hershel works as fast as he can to stop the bleeding, but Daryl is unconscious by the time he manages it. Everyone buzzes around them anxiously, Andrea nearly in tears, and finally Hershel assures them that no, he isn't dead and he isn't going to be any time soon. The two of them struggle to carry him into a spare bedroom so Hershel can tend to the wound in his side.

"Jesus fucking Christ," the hunter chokes out as he comes around, reaching his right hand up to touch his face tentatively, unsure that he isn't already dead. The first thing he sees is Rick, hovering at the side of the bed with his hands in his pockets and a grim look on his face. "What the hell happened?" he asks, and Rick just shrugs, his eyes wide and nervous.

"Andrea thought you were a walker," Rick mutters, chewing at his lip. "You're lucky that she missed."

Daryl manages a smile, one that shows in his eyes. "She needs more rifle practice," he tells the officer, and as soon as Hershel is done stitching his wounds he sits up slowly. "How bad is it?" He glances between Rick and Hershel, all humor gone, and it's obvious that he dreads the answer.

Hershel is washing his hands in a basin nearby and at first he seems not to have heard. He turns to them both, looking tired. "There was damage to your subclavian artery," he starts quietly, crossing his arms. "I managed to get the bleeding to stop, though you still lost a lot of blood. You could have died," he states dryly, and Rick has to sit down after hearing that. "Lucky for you, the bullet went through mostly clean, but there was still damage to your supraspinatus and subacromial bursa, meaning that moving your shoulder will be painful and difficult, to put it lightly. There was a bullet fragment that segmented your supraspinatus tendon, and even though I got it patched up it will never fully heal. The nerves in your arm went without proper blood flow because of the damage to your artery, so it's difficult to say how much functionality you'll still have when you recover."

For a long few minutes there's silence. Daryl reaches up and gently runs his fingers over the stitches in his shoulder. He looks like he's in awe, and he nods to Hershel. "Thank you," he breathes, and he really means it. The old surgeon simply shrugs and turns to leave, though he does look quite proud of himself. 

As soon as he's sure that they're alone, Rick glances over to the hunter, his eyes wide. The two look at each other, staying silent until finally Rick clears his throat. "I'm glad that you're alright," he stutters, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "We'd all be pretty much fucked without you around."

"That ain't true." Daryl looks like a deer in headlights and his voice is shaky, though the tiny hint of a smile finds its way across his face. "Thanks, though," he mutters, and even though all of the strength in him is draining away again, he nudges Rick with his good arm and gives him an easy grin. Rick is still sitting there next to him on the bed when Daryl drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have showed off my stupid anatomy knowledge in this chapter. Also there might be smut in the next one. -ehem- MIGHT. (ok, yes there will be :3c)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is mostly just porn but. it's IMPORTANT porn... I guess.

"Ya don't have ta hover 'round me all the time, y'know?"

Rick feels his face go red. He looks over to where Daryl is laying in his tent, watching him with harsh eyes. It's been a long few weeks since the archer was first injured and Rick has had to watch him almost constantly to make sure that he doesn't try to overwork himself. Most of the time, though, Daryl has been in too much pain to get out of bed, and Rick still can't keep himself from watching over the hunter to make sure he's alright.

His hands in his pockets, Rick walks into Daryl's tent and sits down across from him. Daryl doesn't look at him, but he looks exhausted, and Rick can tell that he's in a lot of pain. He remembers the bottle of painkillers in his pocket, though he expects Daryl to refuse to take them, as he's done ever since he was first injured. The archer eyes the pill bottle, seems to think about it for a moment and then nods finally. Rick hands him a bottle of water and watches as he swallows one of the pills and then curls up on his side, looking small and helpless.

"I wanna go out into the forest today," Daryl mutters. "Soon as this stops hurtin' so bad, I mean."

Rick frowns, though he eventually nods. "I suppose that's alright," he says quietly. "Just let me come with you when you go."

"I've ain't had a moment alone with ya followin' me around all the damn time. Why don't ya just leave me alone fer a while?"

Rick leans back, supporting himself with one arm. "I'll leave you alone as soon as you've recovered," he responds matter-of-factly. "You're just going on a walk, right? It isn't like you need privacy for that."

Daryl narrows his eyes, and for a moment he just looks angry, though he sighs and seems to relax a bit. He watches Rick for a long moment before finally shrugging his good shoulder. "I need to jack off," he mutters through gritted teeth, and he looks away as his face goes bright red.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Daryl says with one eyebrow raised. "You gonna leave me alone so I can, or are ya gonna watch while I do it?"

The officer rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward as he tries not to look at Daryl. "I'll uh... I'll leave you alone, I guess..." The two lock eyes for a moment, and Daryl grins wide when he sees how red Rick's face has gotten. "Just stay safe," he offers, looking away quickly.

"Will do, sir," Daryl says, a hint of a smile in his voice. Rick squawks in surprise and promptly leaves, the sound of Daryl's laughter following him as he walks off toward the farm.

 

\+ + +

While Rick is tending to the horses in the stable he gets the feeling of being watched. He looks around anxiously and makes his way outside, chewing at his lip. Just as he makes his way out of the stable, he feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns to see Daryl, wide eyed and disheveled. Before Rick can even speak, Daryl grabs him by the front of his shirt and is pulling him into the cover of the trees. Rick realizes that Daryl is breathing heavily and his cock is hard, showing through his threadbare trousers. He shoves Rick against a tree and kisses him hard, holding him down with one arm across his chest.

"I need to fuck someone," he growls into Rick's ear, pressing his erection against the other man's thigh. "I can't get myself off."

Rick laughs before he can stop himself, his face bright red as he gently pushes Daryl away, who now looks furious. "You can't get yourself off?" he repeats in a mocking tone. "What, you forget how to jack off?"

"I'm left handed," Daryl hisses. "It's hard ta do it with my right hand, okay? Now either help me or fuck off." He pushes Rick back and starts to unbutton his pants, locking eyes with Rick as he does the same. When Daryl pushes his boxers down, Rick freezes, his jaw dropping open as he sees Daryl's cock. He swallows hard and slowly drops to his knees, his mouth watering.

Daryl bites his bottom lip as Rick licks a slow stripe up his shaft. He gently grabs at Rick's hair and pulls him back, looking down at him in surprise. "Stop, I want to f-fuck you," he says quietly, and Rick smiles stupidly.  He pulls his boxers down and licks his lips, slowly stroking his half-hard cock while Daryl fishes out a bottle of lube from his pocket. He chews at his lip and motions for Rick to turn around, pushes him against the tree and runs his hand over his back. He slicks up his cock as quickly as he can and lines himself up, pushing  at Rick's entrance until he slides inside slowly. 

As soon as Rick relaxes a bit, Daryl grabs him by the hips and slams into him, making Rick cry out before Daryl can press his hand over the other man's mouth. He leaned forward to gently nip at Rick's earlobe, bucking his hips wildly, growling with his lips against Rick's neck. "I'm gonna cum inside ya," he purred, biting and sucking small bruises across Rick's shoulders. Before Rick can even respond, though, Daryl is grunting, digging his nails into the officer's soft skin as he spills his seed inside him. 

  
Then suddenly, Daryl is gone. He pulls out of Rick fast enough to make both of them cringe, and although Rick gives the hunter an angry glare, Daryl already has his trousers pulled up and is fastening his belt. He turns to leave and Rick grabs his shoulder, but Daryl glares at him and easily shrugs him off.

"I said I wanted ta fuck ya, not ta cuddle n' talk 'bout feelin's or whatever," the hunter snaps, and Rick flinches away awkwardly, letting Daryl walk off without trying to stop him again.

\+ + +

A quick rap at the door drags Daryl's attention away from the crossbow on his lap and as he looks up, he dreads the worst. Rick is standing there watching him quietly, leaning against the door frame. Daryl wants to bolt out of the abandoned barn, but he allows the sheriff to cross the expanse of straw-littered flooring to crouch down next to him. The archer turns his attention back to his crossbow, wiping the blood off of it, not wanting to meet eyes with Rick

"Are we ever gonna talk about what happened yesterday?" the officer asks, and he's smiling his easy smile, hoping that if he seems relaxed then Daryl will open up to him, but the archer is just as silent as always. He shrugs his shoulders, his left still barely moving, the joint still stiff from his injury and hardly healed enough to return any function to it. Rick feels a pang and his smile falters, his hand coming up to touch Daryl's shoulder gently, pushing aside the cloth of his sleeveless shirt to inspect the scabbed over bullet wound with the flesh of his thumb. He feels the archer tense under his touch, but surprisingly Daryl stays where he is and just glances over at Rick from the corner of his eye.

"What's there ta talk about?" Daryl tries, though there's a lack of conviction and he drops his gaze uncertainly back to his bow. "I was horny, that's all. I shoulda just done it myself n' not bothered ya, huh?" He rubs the back of his neck and glances up at Rick anxiously, chewing at the inside of his lip. "I hope I didn't hurt ya."

Rick is stunned for a moment, struck by how sincere Daryl looks. He leans forward before he can stop himself and kisses Daryl hard, pressing their lips together and gently snaking his tongue inside until Daryl relaxes under him and kisses back. His hands are on Daryl's shoulders and he pulls him in close, moaning into him before he has to pull back for air. The two stare at each other in surprise, taking in each other's kiss-swollen, reddened lips. 

"You didn't," Rick breathes in surprise. "I liked it. I want to do it again."


	4. Chapter 4

Things have been quiet and peaceful ever since Rick and his group moved into Hershel's home. Shane has more or less taken over the roll of Lori's husband, and though they haven't talked about it, Rick and Lori are both fine with it. As long as he can still be a father to Carl, Rick is happy. Rick's tried to explain to Carl, about the fact that he's gay and about the fact that he married the boy's mother only because her father forced him to, and although he was upset at first, Carl seems to understand. No one is angry and his family is at peace, and that's all that matters to Rick.

Carol hasn't had as much luck with her daughter. She's become more quiet since they found Sofia in the barn, and although a month has passed since then, she still isn't back to her old self. Now more than ever she seems to cling to Daryl, although he isn't around much, and it makes Rick jealous even if he'll never say so. Daryl ignores both of them to some extent, and it's difficult to keep him on the farm long enough for a conversation before he goes off hunting again. 

Although it's one of his worst qualities in the grand scheme of things, Rick is a stubborn person. Once he's set his mind to something, he'll devote himself to it with everything he has, and unfortunately for Daryl, he's become the subject of Rick's most recent obsession. Whenever the hunter is around, Rick watches him with an intensity that would likely scare anyone else off. Daryl finds it annoying, and he avoids Rick like the plague because his eyes are always buzzing with questions Daryl really doesn't want to answer, but it's nothing he's worried about because he thinks Rick will drop it eventually. Of course it turns out that he's wrong.

Rick follows him into the woods one day, and although Daryl pretends to be oblivious he knows immediately that someone's trailing him. Even though his arm is still weak from his injury, he has a firm grasp on his crossbow when he suddenly spins around and aims it at Rick's head. He sees the sheriff stumble, standing about four yards away, and immediately Rick's hands are in the air.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he gasps stupidly, and he wrings his hands together when Daryl doesn't lower his bow. "I just wanted to talk."

"I don't like bein' followed," Daryl spits, and he finally relaxes and lowers his weapon, though his eyes are still narrowed dangerously and darting around like he's expecting an ambush. He looks anxious, Rick thinks, and the sheriff approaches slowly with his hands clearly visible. When he's finally close enough, he realizes that Daryl has his jaw clenched and is grabbing his crossbow so hard his knuckles are white. 

"I didn't mean to scare ya," Rick says gently, and although Daryl tenses noticeably, he takes another step toward the hunter. "Just put down the bow and let's talk."

It takes a long few minutes but eventually Daryl nods. He leans backward against a tree trunk, slinging his bow over his shoulder and crossing his arms. "Ain't nothin' to talk about," he mutters, and he busies himself by chewing at his nails while Rick just stares at him silently with that bullshit look of pity he's way too used to.

"I saw the scars on your back while Hershel was stitching you up," he says quietly, and his frown only deepens when Daryl just shrugs. "Who the hell did that to you?"

Daryl can't help the snarl he lets out, his lip curling back like an angry dog. "Why the hell you so damn interested?" he snaps, and within a second he's in Rick's face, towering over him and radiating furry. "It ain't none a' yer damn business. Ya just wanna know so ya can say how damn sorry ya feel for me. I'm fuckin' sick a' hearin' that people who got nothin' to do with it are so goddamn sorry! Get that fuckin' look offa yer face!"

Rick takes a step back, looking dumbfounded. "What look?" he asks, and he's serious because the way Daryl's glaring at him is alarming. He holds his hands up in front of him and steps back again, and Daryl seems to relax a bit, although his voice is still dripping venom.

"That fuckin' sad look, like a lost puppy," the hunter says, and he's curling his lip again. "Ya feel bad for me. I can't fuckin' stand it."

Before Rick has the time to respond, Daryl's storming off through the forest, kicking leaves and branches out of his way in raw anger. "If ya try to follow me again, I'll gut ya," he yells over his shoulder, and Rick is rooted to the spot as he silently watches him walk away.

As soon as he gets back to the farm, Rick finds Carol and pulls her aside. He's seen her chatting with Daryl whenever he comes back from hunting, and although it makes his head spin with jealousy, he's eager to know how she managed to coax him into conversation.

"I tried to talk to Daryl," he starts off, and Carol rolls her eyes knowingly. "I thought he was gonna kill me."

"He can be intimidating," she says, and she gets a smile on her face that says a lot. "You know he'd never hurt you, though."

"I'm not so sure."

Carol sits down on the banister of the porch, letting her legs swing slowly as she glances up at Rick. "He's scared," she says gently. "He's been through a lot and he isn't used to being around other people. Just give him time and eventually he'll open up to you."

Rick sits down in the rocking chair opposite Carol and he lets out a sigh. "I just wish he would. I mean, sooner rather than later. It seems like he's been avoiding me."

"He has," she answers plainly, and Rick feels dread in the pit of his stomach, although he isn't sure why. "He probably just doesn't know what to say to you, if I had to guess. He'll get over it eventually." 

"What can I do to get him to trust me?"

"Nothing. Just wait for him to come to you."

Although he's disappointed, Rick nods and accepts it. He watches as Carol leaves to go help Lori get ready to prepare dinner, and Rick decides that he might as well find something to do. He's busying himself folding the laundry left on the line from that morning's washing when he hears a horse's hoof beats and turns to see Daryl riding a black filly down the path to the stables. Although his breath catches in his throat when he sees the hunter, he forces himself to stay put and finish folding the clothes.

\+ + +

Although lifting the saddle on and off of the horse Hershel lent him has made Daryl's injuries flare up with fresh pain, he's had a nice time riding her. He's just begun to brush her-- Sadie, Hershel said her name was-- when he hears a noise at the door to the stable that distracts him. He puts down the brush and steps out of the stall, glancing around until his eyes fall on a short-statured girl with a shock of orange hair pulled back into a ponytail. She has one hand pressed to her stomach, where a steady trickle of blood stains her shirt, and she looks up at Daryl as he steps closer. Immediately the hunter lunges for his crossbow, but the girl just looks tired. 

"Who're you?" Daryl snaps, swallowing hard as he realizes the left side of the girl's face is covered in a swath of silver scars, her mouth deformed and her eye missing. "Are you bit?"

"No," she pants quietly. "I'm alright, I just fell. I don't remember my name, but you can call me Squirrel." She looks Daryl up and down for a moment before straightening up. "You're not gonna shoot me, are you?"

The hunter thinks for a long moment before he lowers his bow and gives a sigh. "Naw," he mutters, "just don't try anything stupid." He leans against the wall behind him and chews at his nail while he studies Squirrel. "The hell happen to yer face?"

Although he expects her to prickle at the question, Squirrel just shrugs. "It happened before the turn, when I was a kid. A dog chewed on my face and I'm apparently lucky to be alive. It killed both of my brothers, though."

Daryl nods quietly, worrying his lip under his teeth. "That sucks."

"I've gotten used to it." Squirrel sits down in the dirt on the floor of the stables and wraps her arms around her knees. "After all, it happened when I was just six years old."

"Who're you talking to in here?"

Daryl jumps hard at the sound of Rick's voice, and he spins around so fast he nearly falls. He motions to where Squirrel is sitting on the floor, but when he looks back toward her she's gone. He opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to find something to say, but in the end he just shakes his head. "No one," he mutters, staring at the floor.

"Sorry if I startled you," Rick says, and he gives a small smile. "I just wanted to tell you that dinner's ready." He rings his hands and steps closer to Daryl, looking anxious. "Look, if you're seeing things that aren't there you know you can tell me."

"I ain't crazy," the hunter snaps, and he takes a step backward. "I swear, Rick, if you tell anyone..."

Rick holds up one hand, shaking his head. "I won't. I know you aren't crazy, alright?" He shrugs quietly and scuffs his feet in the dirty, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I see things too sometimes. It isn't often, but it's always terrifying. It's happened to me since I was a kid, actually. If you ever wanna talk then I'm here..." He chews his lip and then gives a small smile, backing off a bit. "Anyway, come to dinner before it gets cold. We're probably gonna go on a run to town tomorrow, see if we can find any more medical supplies. So uh... yknow, rest up or whatever." He gives a quick shrug and smiles awkwardly before turning to leave. Daryl watches him go wordlessly before following after, occasionally glancing around as if still expecting Squirrel to be walking alongside him back to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my psychotic children.... cherish them.....  
> also lmao this chapter took forever and is super short bcuz im sick af rip  
> daryl is a smol emotionally bruised bby and i want 2 pet him  
> the end 4 now lmao  
> (get it 4. cuz. chapter 4. im gonna shut.)


End file.
